Mashable

#MindfulAllies is a weeklong series that highlights real stories from people who experience mental illness. They are speaking out to educate people and end stigma around mental health.

When I was diagnosed with a mental illness — in my case, obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) — I wasn’t upset. There was hope in having something I could learn about and try to understand — and maybe, with treatment, find recovery.

But that wasn’t something I was willing to talk about. Not to my family, not to anyone.

Reporters like me often use their own health scares and struggles as opportunities to bring viewers or readers along — sharing their journey and informing along the way. They interview their own doctors, encourage people who might be feeling the way they had to get checked, tested and treated. Or at least, to understand.

As a longtime television reporter myself, I must’ve stood on front porches and sidewalks thousands of times trying to convince people to open up. "Let others hear what you have to say, let them understand what you’ve gone through," I would encourage them. "People will find power in your story, and I’m sure many will relate with you."

That never, ever crossed my mind with my own mental illness, and that’s a regret. I was terrified of telling my own story, and so I buried it.

I’d used my wife as a kind of excuse for keeping my own secret.

Regrets built up over time — my refusal to attach my name and face to my illness; my fear; and the realization that some of my own reporting probably added to the stigma that people with mental illness face.

I wanted to talk about it, but couldn’t. And then my wife said she thought it was a good idea.

I was shocked. I know my wife loves me and would do anything for me, but somehow I think I felt she would rather my mental illness be a family secret, even though we’re not a family living in the 1950s, hiding our unpleasant truths behind smiles and curtained windows.

When she made it clear she thought it would be good for others to hear my story — and good for me to tell it — I felt an enormous weight lifted. I realized I’d used my wife as a kind of excuse for keeping my own secret. I'd think, I’m protecting her. You know, from the shame of having a crazy person for a husband.

I braced for every awful thing I ever feared to come crashing into my life. And it just didn’t happen.

And so I told my story. All of it. And I braced for every awful thing I ever feared to come crashing into my life.

And it just didn’t happen. Quite the opposite, in fact. The only tidal wave I had to deal with was one of support and love. People I’d known for years came to me to confide that they, too, had a mental illness of one kind or another and had kept it hidden.

I was repeatedly called brave, which sounded ridiculous to me. Thanks to social media, I heard from people all over the world who simply raised their hand and said, "me too."

Mental illness feeds on the secrecy, and convinces you it’s a shameful defect in you and you alone: If people knew the truth about you, imagine what they’d think.

Well, thanks to my beautiful and brilliant wife, I know what they think. They think I’m a pretty decent guy who has a pretty ordinary illness that actually affects an awful lot of people. It’s something that’s worth talking about. Stigma grows in the dark corners when we close the curtains tight and keep the doors locked.

People I’d known for years came to me to confide that they, too, had a mental illness.

But I no longer have to do this alone, hidden and in fear. Thanks to my wife and the community of people who rushed in to surround me, I am proudly and defiantly willing to talk about my illness — and to fight against the stigma that makes it hard for others to do the same.

Every day I wait for someone (surely it’s going to happen one day) to use my mental illness as a weapon against me. Wait. Aren’t you the crazy reporter? But so far, it hasn’t happened.

I had always feared that people would see me differently if they knew. Perhaps they do, in a way, but it’s a better, truer, more honest me I present to the world, and I benefit from that every day.

Consider the following resources if you are experiencing mental illness and want to seek help now. If you want to discuss a mental health issue, including symptoms and treatment, call the NAMI HelpLine at 1-800-950-NAMI (6264). If you are in crisis, text 741-741 to reach the Crisis Text Line. If you are having suicidal thoughts, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255). For international resources, this list is a good place to start.